


Edge of Nothing

by thanku4urlove



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: 5 member Kat-tun, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, Horror, No More Pain inspired, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 19:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanku4urlove/pseuds/thanku4urlove
Summary: They've been told that this is the final battle, and if they win this one, they'll win the war. Kamenashi hopes so, because he feels he only has one more fight left in him.





	Edge of Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend's birthday in 2017! This fic is inspired purely by the No More Pain music video. This is my first (and only) attempt at Kat-tun fic, so sorry if the characterization isn't great.

“That isn’t going to do anything.”

Nakamaru looked up from the weapon in his hand--a longsword made of dark metal--running his thumb over a few of the ornate carvings as his eyes met Ueda’s skeptical gaze. He mulled over the words in his head before buckling the weapon around his waist anyways. Ueda raised an eyebrow.

“It’s only going to slow you down. All of my men are leaving their weapons behind; Taguchi and Kamenashi are telling their men to do the same.”

“I know.” Nakamaru’s hands fell to his waist, his right hand finding the hilt automatically. He would be lost if he reached down and found only empty space. “It makes me feel safer, even if that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t.” Ueda responded instantly, and Nakamaru couldn’t help a fast breath through his nose. The words hadn’t meant to be snarky, despite how they sounded--Ueda was looking over their troops, all of the men grim and silent as they put on their armor. His face was set, his eyes cold.

“What is it?” Nakamaru asked him after a long moment.

“They’re all going to die.” Ueda answered, his voice going soft. A heavy stone of dread settled into Nakamaru’s stomach, and he felt his mouth going dry. Ueda would talk about the future sometimes, talk and sound incredibly steadfast, and while Nakamaru knew precognition was nothing but staking expectations on chance, his co-commander somehow seemed to be right more often than he was wrong.

“What about us?” He asked hesitantly, and Ueda turned to look at him, his eyes traveling Nakamaru’s face for a long, still moment before he glanced away again.

“I don’t know.” He said, picking up his helmet. “I can’t tell. But… It isn’t going to be good.”

“Well,” Nakamaru said with a laugh, the humorless sound coming to his ears pale and strange as he too picked his helmet up, tucking it under his arm. “That’s obvious enough. I could have told you that.”

Ueda shook his head, falling into step with Nakamaru as they walked.

“No, it’s going to be worse. Worse than last time. Worse than every other time.”

“But that’s alright, because this is the last battle, right?” Nakamaru gave his fellow commander a nudge and a smile, but the sentiment wasn’t returned. If anything, Ueda’s expression hardened.

“That’s what we’ve been told. Here’s to hoping they’re right.” Pulling his helmet over his head Ueda sped up his pace, his armor making his footfalls heavy as he walked down the hallway, leaving a silhouette in his wake. His steps echoed against the stone walls, Nakamaru standing to listen until he had traveled out of earshot. They had been pushing through the countryside, fighting tooth and nail to take back their own land. This was their second week of refuge--and their final, if luck was on their side--within the walls of a temple carved beneath a mountain. It was damp and dark, certainly, but it was a hard base to penetrate. During a war like this, that quality was worth more than anything.  
Nakamaru knew Ueda was headed for the front lines, getting ready to rally everyone together, but Nakamaru wasn’t quite ready for that yet, turning and walking to another large armory room. This room wasn’t quite as somber as he and Ueda’s had been, a low hum of conversation traveling through the men as they prepared. They were only pulling on armor though, not a weapon in sight. They’d taken their commanders’ words to heart, but Nakamaru noticed Taguchi slipping a dagger into his boot as he approached.

“Hey.” It took until his announcement for Kamenashi to notice his presence, acknowledging him with a slight nod as Taguchi looked over him.

“That sword? Really? I thought we were going with no weapons.”

“You just gave yourself a dagger.” Nakamaru pointed out, and Taguchi gave him a sheepish smile.

“Still though, a sword that big could seriously slow you down.”

“That’s what Ueda said.” Nakamaru answered with a shrug. “He said he’s not bringing any weapons with him, but knowing that guy he’s probably got his brass knuckles on him somewhere.”

Taguchi laughed and nodded, Nakamaru hearing an amused exhale coming from Kamenashi from his right.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Koki ended up bringing his battle axes with him.” Taguchi said in agreement, stepping forward to hit Nakamaru on the arm in farewell as he exited. Nakamaru turned to Kamenashi, who was sitting down to pull his shoes on.

“So Kame, how’s that black eye treating you?”

“I can still see, so…” Kame finished putting on his boots, shrugging a little as he straightened up. “It still hurts if I touch it, and it still looks the same.”

“So nothing has changed.” Nakamaru summarized, and Kame nodded.

“It hasn’t gotten worse.”

“But it hasn’t gotten better, either.” He leaned in to take a closer look and Kame didn’t flinch away, standing stock still. Kame had been injured in the previous battle, struck in the face, the injury seemingly dealt to his right eye. It was too dark to be a bruise, the mark completely black and blossoming across the side of his face. The injury hadn’t changed in size, color, or sensitivity since the day he had gotten it, and Nakamaru knew it wasn’t just a normal wound. It had to do with the dark magic surrounding them and to him that was terrifying; evil had gripped Kame and it wasn’t letting go.

Kame seemed to have followed his train of thought, pulling back a bit to give Nakamaru a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes though.

“I’m fine. No seizures, and it doesn't hurt if I leave it alone. It isn’t anything to worry about right now.”

Nakamaru knew he was right, but that didn’t stop him from frowning. Kame’s wound gave him an uneasy feeling for the battle ahead of them.

There weren’t men outside their temple, waiting to attack. Their enemy wasn’t a solid entity, not really. It was fire, poison, and mind control. It was demons. It was death. Weapons didn’t work on the evil lurking outside; it could hold them back, but hand to hand combat with gloved hands worked just as well, the blunt force of a fist carrying more impact than a thin blade, so they’d switched their mode of combat halfway through their campaign.

The only thing that could get rid of their enemy was the destruction of the portals that gave them a connection to the physical world. They’d destroyed four of them, the last one sitting in a fortified pyramid just a few fields away from their temple. While all of their troops were now concentrated on the pyramid, the entire of the enemy army was too, and Nakamaru knew this was going to be their toughest fight yet. Everyone needed to be at the top of their game, and here their lead commander was, with an other worldly injury crawling up the side of his face. With any luck though, at the end of this battle, the mark would simply disappear. Kame scooped his helmet up off the ground.

“The others?”

“Ready, I think. I haven’t seen Koki yet.”

“So Koki and… And just Koki.” Kamenashi shook his head a bit at his misstep. “And I’m sure he’s already raring to go.”

Nakamaru grinned a little, nodding, and after a word to the troops behind them, they walked together from the room.

Koki felt as though he was on fire. He was the hot flash of light during a thunderstorm. Beads of sweat rolled down his back as he hopped on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t quite tell what emotion it was that had him unable to stand still, feelings as far apart as gut-crushing fear and rippling anger crashing over him in waves, sometimes separately, though mostly all at once. He was ready. He wasn’t ready at all. Either way, it didn’t matter.

“You alright?” Ueda was the first person to walk in, but it wasn’t until Taguchi entered that the silence was broken. The tall commander was wearing a silly, anxious smile on his face, and Koki turned away from him.

“If he’s ready to kill, I say we leave him alone.” Ueda said quietly, taking a seat on the large stone table in the middle of their meeting room. Koki shook his head a bit, picking up one of his axes from the floor and swinging it, trying to release some tension. He was still on the fence about bringing a weapon or not, getting skeptical looks from the both of them.

“You do know that isn’t going--”

“I know.” Koki cut Taguchi off, the metal clanging as he let the weapon fall to the floor. He felt somehow worse without it, picking it back up. “That doesn’t mean I won’t fucking try.”

“But--” Taguchi started again, but Ueda held up a hand and he fell silent.

“Someone needs to be able to smash whatever is waiting for us in that pyramid. I want to do it. I want to fuck them all up.”

The previous portal had been sitting on the table in this very room, during their siege on the temple. It was a solid black cube, scorching to the touch, cursed energy coming from it in a steady stream until Taguchi had gotten close enough to stab it. The scream that came from the thing as it cracked still rang in Koki’s ears.

“I’m bringing my dagger again.” Taguchi offered, lifting his foot slightly to point to his left boot, where Koki could see the hilt of the overgrown knife sticking slightly out over the leather.

“Yeah? And what if you don’t make it?”

Ueda gave Koki a sharp glance, but Koki didn’t look back at him. Taguchi just stared for a moment, his foot slowly lowering back to the stone floor.

“I will. It’ll be fine.”

The dry laugh that came from his chest was humorless and completely unbidden as Koki strapped one of his axes to his back, leaving the other at his feet. Just one of them would be enough, he tried to tell himself, just as Kamenashi and Nakamaru entered the room.

“Took the two of you long enough.” He drawled out, and while Nakamaru scowled slightly, Kame offered up a small, weary smile.

“I want to go over the plan again.” Kame said, and Koki couldn’t help a slight sigh, while Ueda piped up from behind them all.

“We already know the plan.”

“But--”

“It isn’t much of a plan, anyway.” He added before Kame could continue. “We’ve just got to fight our way in there.”

“And keep every inch of skin covered to eliminate the risk of possession. That means airtight boots--same with gloves--keeping helmets up and on…” The last statement was said with a pointed look in Koki’s direction, and he glanced away. “If someone near you gets possessed, don’t let them kill you. Because they will try.”

“Then we get in there and we destroy the portal.” Nakamaru finished, Kame giving a small nod.

“Destroy the portal.” He repeated, falling silent until Koki looked up at him. Kame met his eyes before glancing past him, his eyes shifting until he’d made eye contact with everyone in the room. “Are we ready?”

His question got affirmative answers, and though Kame knew they were lying, he stayed silent. Nobody could be ready for what was waiting for them outside, but the illusion of a resolve was all they needed to lead their troops into battle. Everyone had a look of determination, so after a set smile to all of them, Kame nodded and gestured to the door. They all walked ahead of him, putting on their helmets as they went, and Kame looked over the backs of the four men before him, with himself making them five.

They had been six once. Back when the job was easy, and they did little more than run drills and file reports. Then the shit hit the fan, and all it took was one bloody scrimmage for Akanishi Jin to cave. Kame was still able to feel the hot breath on his face and smell the blood soaking his hands as Jin had shaken him roughly, as enraged as he was panicked, screaming and saying that they were all insane. At the time they’d known nothing of what to do, so when he’d thrown down his weapon and walked out, Kame hadn’t tried to stop him. But these men, the ones in front of him--they had stayed, and Kame trusted them with his life.

Even through the shield of his helmet, the sunlight felt assaulting after staying so long in the temple. It wasn’t that bright out, skies grey with even darker clouds rolling their way, but Kame still found himself squinting, directing his eyes to his feet. Word of their decision to go had reached the troops by now, more exterior doors of the temple opening as armored men swarmed from inside like ants, trying to organize themselves behind their captains as they went. Kame turned to watch them, and as he did a glint caught his eye, light bouncing from Nakamaru’s helmet as he turned in Kame’s direction, a small gesture with his hand telling Kame he should say a few words.

When the men had all assembled their lines were incredibly straight, Kame walking across to look down each of them. Most of the men had followed their protocols and left their weapons behind them, but a noticeable amount still had swords still strapped to their backs or around their waists. He didn’t comment on it.

“Today is the end.” He began, raising his voice to be heard by everyone. The troops were quiet and still. He tried to sound definitive, though he didn’t feel that way. He couldn’t think of anything to tell these men that they didn’t already know; he wasn’t a leader, not really. Not any more than the other commanders were. “We’re nearly there. We’ve nearly beaten them. And for that, we are forever in your debt.”  
He gave a low bow, and in the corner of his eye he could see his fellow officers doing the same. The gesture was returned as soon as he straightened up, and he choked back the lump growing in his throat. A large amount of men were not going to make it through today, and they doubtlessly knew that, yet here they were.

Kame opened his mouth, wanting to speak again but unsure of what to say. He didn’t get any further though, a loud shout coming from his right that had his head whipping around, panic gripping his chest.

“They’re here!”

The temperature around them seemed to drop instantly, though it might just have been fear sending a chill through his bones. Dark figures moved from the blinding white fog that was about two hundred yards away, obscuring the sky and the pyramid they were heading towards. Kame kept his eyes on the largest one, the figure closest to the front, as it glided across the trampled grass. Its form glitched, flashed, and then it was inches from his face, Kame barely having time to throw his forearms up to protect his head as he was thrown to the ground. The creature was wispy, thin, and out of focus, but its grip was tight as it wrapped a skeletal hand around Kame’s forearm, all shriveled muscle and chiseled tendons. Kame got his feet under him, using the hold the thing had on him to pull himself up far enough to swing.

It felt as damaging and solid as punching a pillow, but it did the job; the thing glitched again and released him, and as he straightened a battle cry began behind him. As one surging mass, they all ran forwards, Kame keeping his eyes on the pyramid in the distance as he led the way into the fray.

A blow to his chest had Nakamaru stumbling backwards, tripping over the ground or his own feet, he couldn’t tell, air abandoning his lungs as he collided with a heavy metal object behind him. It was a fellow soldier, reaching back to help steady him, Nakamaru pressing his back into the man’s in an attempt to get back on his feet.

“Alright there, captain?” The man called out, and once Nakamaru had a few breaths in him he responded affirmatively. He was okay. He had no cuts; he hadn’t lost any blood. He had a plethora of bruises that he could feel already, but that wasn’t near enough to keep him from fighting. He felt safer now that he was back to back with one of his troops though, wanting to stop for a moment and breathe before he continued the trek to the pyramid. They seemed to be at a standstill in the middle of the field, unable to move forward or back. There hadn’t been many casualties yet, thankfully; the battle hadn’t tipped from their favor, but they had to keep up the struggle with the same energy to keep it that way.

He’d lost sight of the other captains. Now and again he thought he saw Taguchi, his height helping him stand out in the crowd, but the others were too similar to the surrounding troops and had been lost somewhere in the struggle.

A hard blow to his head had Nakamaru staggering, falling to one knee. In a flash of metal a spear flew down at him, barely missing his arm as he rolled out of the way. The soldier he’d been standing with was swinging at him, his helmet knocked to the ground. His exposed skin was covered in symbols Nakamaru couldn’t read, glowing red as they crawled up his neck and across his face.

Possessed. A cold lump of fear fell into Nakamaru’s stomach as he scrambled backwards on his hands and feet, out of the way of the swinging blade. Contact with any orifice on the body made a person susceptible, and once the possession occurred the only way to stop it was to destroy whatever artifact they were entering the pyramid to get. The soldier slashed at him, a burning pain stabbing its way through Nakamaru’s calf as he struggled to his feet. He let out a yell, stumbling away to steady himself. The man’s eyes were blank, rolled back to show only the whites, and Nakamaru drew his sword, feeling sick. The possessed soldier came at him again with the spear but Nakamaru was ready this time, the tip of his blade finding the man’s hand, slicing few of his fingers, the spear falling to the ground between them. Nakamaru kicked it away, but the man was not deterred, using his fists to begin swinging.

Nakamaru brandished his weapon in broad strokes in an attempt to hold him off, guilt twisting inside of him as he considered his options. This man could be saved once they reached the pyramid, but that could take a long while; he had the potential to do a lot of damage, damage that could be avoided if Nakamaru just killed him. Killed a man without a weapon.

The man jumped, flailing, the force of the collision causing Nakamaru to stumble back, nearly losing his footing again. He shoved the man off him and thrust with his sword, the jarring sensation in his arm telling enough of what had happened before the strangled scream hit his ears. His sword had found a chink in the man’s armor, just under his breastplate, and he was pierced through. Nakamaru withdrew his weapon, stepping back warily as he did so, and the man fell forward onto the dusty earth, lying still.

The field around him had thinned out, the man given a wider berth once people had realized what happened to him, and Nakamaru felt dread creeping up his neck. Once one fell prey to their enemy, it usually didn’t take long for others to follow. He took a deep breath, moving to step over the body, but the man’s arm flew up, tightening around his ankle and dragging him to the ground. His sword fell from his hand and fear gripped him, reaching for the only thing within reach. The spear was slicked with blood but Nakamaru barely felt it, holding it tightly as he struggled to get away. The man had one hand on each of his shoulders, trying to drag him down, gnashing at him with his teeth. Nakamaru fell to one elbow, pressing his body weight into his collapsed arm, forcing his forearm down on the man’s throat. The soldier released him, gasping, his fingers now scrambling to remove Nakamaru’s helmet, and Nakamaru drove the spear through the man’s chain link, through his shoulder, and into the earth.

Now unable to move, the soldier hissed and spat at him, struggling, the sounds terrifyingly less than human. Nakamaru pulled himself to his feet once more, trying to get a deep breath into his lungs, fighting to quell the overwhelming fear in his throat. He couldn't do this. He needed to move; he needed to fight. They were in the middle of a battle, at the end of a war. Picking up his broadsword, Nakamaru tightened his grip on the hilt, pushing forward towards the pyramid.

Genuinely, Koki couldn’t tell if they were winning or losing. It had been a while since they had gained any ground, but they weren’t losing it either, a thought that was comforting until he realized why. They were surrounded. They weren’t losing ground because they were now unable to turn back, hooded figures pressing in on them from all sides, a heavy mist settling over the battlefield. He wasn’t letting the obstruction deter him though, taking two steps forward for every one step back.

Battle had become more familiar, and that was making things easier. They weren’t up against wispish, imperishable forms any longer, not really; it was men. Their own men, sure, but men nonetheless, and Koki had wielded a weapon long enough to know how to strike down a mortal soldier.

There were already a few at his feet, unmoving, but he didn’t want to look at them, pushing ahead, his axe blade swinging. He didn’t have the time to look back. That came later, when the battle was said and done and it was time instead for a body count, walking through the field with blood-soaked boots as he kept his jaw clenched. He would feel sorry then. But now, he had a war to win.

Maybe it was the white noise in his ears, but Koki didn’t hear the soldier behind him until it was too late, arms wrapping around his neck. Of course, no applied force from the man would be enough to damage him under his armor, but all the same he needed the man off him. He swung back with an elbow, turning and bringing his axe upon him, but not before feeling cold fingers slip between his chestplate and his helmet. His helm was ripped off his head as the possessed soldier was shoved away and cut down, and instantly Koki felt he couldn’t breathe.

He knew instantly what was happening, gut-wrenching fear gripping his body as a slow heat began building under his skin. Hotter, and hotter, and then a match was being held to every inch of his skin, a scream ripped from his lungs as he fell to his hands and knees, gasping. In all his years and through all his tribulations, this pain was on an entire separate level from any other experience he could remember.

_You know what I want you to do._ The voice in his head was high and cold.

“No.” Koki growled back through gritted teeth.

_It would be easy. If you do it, I'll make the pain stop._ For a millisecond, the burning relented, Koki gulping in air. When it was back though it felt five times worse, his muscles clenching in agony. He ripped at his armor, yanking it off piece by piece and staggering to his feet. The sheets of metal weren't of use to him now, and he didn't want any protection.

“No.”

_Just kill that man. It would be so easy._

Koki’s axe was on the ground, laying next to the dead soldier that had pulled off his helmet, and there was a man by his side, on his knees and injured, watching him with a wide-eyed look of terror.

Killing him would be easy. The pain was nearing unbearable, and the resistance it took not to pick up his axe was making it feel as though the muscles in his body were pulling free of the bone in an effort to move closer to their target. He took a step closer.

_Do it._

The fallen soldier had a sword lying next to him on the ground and Koki stooped to pick it up, relief flooding his body as his fingers touched the hilt. He stood there for a moment, resisting the urge to collapse, swaying weakly.

_Good._ The voice, shrill and cruel, was smiling. _I'll hide myself from your body, and you'll enter the pyramid with your comrades. You'll protect me. They'll pay with their lives with what they've done._

Koki took another trembling step, and the soldier at his feet scrambled backwards, his eyes wide on the sword in his hand.

_You can do that for me. They trust you._

“They trust me.” Koki repeated. Getting air into his lungs felt like a struggle. “They've given everything they have to this damn cause.”

He turned the blade in his hands, brain feeling foggy, clouded by the possession he knew he couldn't get rid of. Bracing his legs, he turned the point of the weapon inwards, the metal piercing the fabric of his shirt and pricking his abdomen.

There was a scream in his head as his intentions were realized, but nothing that voice could say mattered; his resolve was solid. Both hands on the hilt, Koki drove the blade in deep, blood soaking his shirt and slicking his fingers. He let himself kneel on the earth, relieving his shaking knees.

“They trust me. I'm not going to betray them.”

The world was beginning to fade around him, black spots edging in on his vision, the sounds of battle above him muffled and dull. He’d expected death to hurt much more than this, he mused, collapsing down onto his hands. Someone was gripping his shoulder, shaking, and pulling, Koki wondering weakly if he was being pulled to the darkness or the light as he closed his eyes.

“Finally.” Nakamaru’s voice was weak with relief in his ear as Kame was pulled in for a one armed hug. He, Taguchi, and Ueda were already at the entrance to the pyramid, though the last two looked out of breath; hopefully they hadn’t been waiting long. Nakamaru was covered in dark blood, but it didn’t look like it was his.

“Why did you wait for me?” Kame asked them all, but nobody answered. “Are we waiting for Koki too?”

“We didn’t want to go in as only three.” Nakamaru said. “Stronger would be better.”

“I don’t know if we should wait any longer.” Taguchi countered, Nakamaru turning to look at him. “Shouldn’t we just get this thing over with? Everyone is killing each other out there.”

“He’s dead anyway.” Ueda said, and though his voice was apathetic his right hand was balled into a fist, Kame’s eyes catching the gesture, wondering what his face looked like. Kame’s mouth went dry, Taguchi and Nakamaru both gasping.

“Did you see him?” Nakamaru’s voice was weak and Ueda shook his head, not offering any more explanation. Somehow though, Kame believed him; Ueda was always right about things like this.

“Then he could be alive.” Taguchi’s voice had a tone of hope to it, but the brightness felt fake, and all of them knew it.

“Then we should get going.” Kame said resignedly, straightening up. “How do we get in?”

Ueda turned around and faced the pyramid wall behind them, fingers gripping the edge, and Kame noticed a small grip in the wall. A rectangular stone panel was pulled aside, revealing a black, wispy barrier.

“It doesn’t look it, but it’s completely solid.” He reported, Kame walking over. He touched it with his gloved hand and sure enough, the black haze was impassable.

“Your dagger.” He requested, extending his hand out to Taguchi. The man took a step back surprised.

“Are you sure?”

“Might as well.” There wasn’t much else they could do, so after a hesitant moment Taguchi handed the small blade over. Kame unsheathed it, pulled his arm back, and slammed the point of the weapon into the mass. It writhed, a high pitched scream reaching their ears, but despite the piercing shriek the dagger did the job, forcing a hole into the mist. They all rushed through, Ueda pulling the stone door closed.

Kame collapsed to the floor, feeling weak and nauseous, but as soon as he hit the floor his body felt as though it was burning. He ripped his helmet off, his chestplate following; the metal so hot that he expected to see blisters all over his skin. Instead of a sore redness however, there were black letters crawling across his skin, spreading from the center of his body. The words ran down his arms, but the pain was nowhere close to the terror in his chest. He’d seen these markings before, burned deep into the skin of those killed after gripped by possession of the enemy. But he’d ruptured a protective seal, and now it was his turn.

His legs jerked, his head colliding hard with the stone below him as he fell. He tried choking air into his lungs, the four of them crouching around him, and after a long, suffocating moment, he took in a shuddering breath, his muscles falling still.

“...Kame?” Nakamaru asked quietly. Kame’s ears were still ringing, his head feeling about to split, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to breathe.

“Should we hold him down?” Taguchi asked hesitantly, to no answer.

“Kame. Open your eyes.” Nakamaru was speaking to him again, his voice insistent this time. “Come on.”

So, after a shaking breath, Kame did. They all had their helmets off, and as soon as Nakamaru met his eyes he sighed, relief clear on his face, letting his head fall limp.

“He’s not possessed.” He reported, Kame lifting his head up off the floor. He couldn’t believe it, his eyes traveling over the words stained stark and black against his skin. His train of thought seemed to be followed by Ueda and Taguchi too, Ueda’s eyes still on him as he asked,

“How do you know?”

“I got attacked on my way here; the soldier’s eyes rolled back in his head. But he looks fine.”

When he pointed it out, Kame realized that he didn’t feel any different. There was a horrifying shred of doubt that argued against Nakamaru’s words but he didn’t have time to dwell on that, staggering to his feet. His legs wouldn’t hold him though, Taguchi stooping to catch him as he pitched forward.

“Can you walk?” He asked, and Kame shook his head. So Taguchi hoisted Kame’s arm over his shoulder, and they started together towards the center of the pyramid.

“This is killing me.” Kame breathed, trying to get his feet under him. “I’m dying.”

“Well, we’re almost there.” Taguchi gave him his winning smile, but it didn’t make him feel better. “We’ll destroy the orb, and it’ll all be over.”

“Wait… Orb?” Kame echoed. “Have you already seen it?”

His question was ignored as they crossed the threshold. In the center of the room, lit by a high, tall window, was a pedestal. The artifact was laying in a small crevice on the center of the stand, a white, misty glass ball the size of his palm, but Kame didn’t have much time to look at it; Taguchi’s support was gone and he was dropped to the ground, the man rushing forward.

“Don’t touch it!” Ueda screamed. The warning went unheeded as Taguchi’s fingers wrapped around the orb, lifting it from its stand. The glass ball began to glow white, light enveloping Taguchi, nearly blinding to look at.

“What are you doing?” Nakamaru shouted, and there was a smile on Taguchi’s face then, but the sight of it made Kame’s stomach twist. “We have to destroy it!”

“Destroy it?” Taguchi echoed, a sick sort of smile to his voice. “Something this powerful? No. I’m going to kill you with it.”

His eyes rolled back, the whites gleaming, and another spasm wracked Kame’s body as the words on his skin began to burn white. A pained shout came from behind him with the clanging of metal against stone, glancing over to see Ueda collapsed to his knees. The black writing was climbing up his neck, and the same with Nakamaru, his teeth gritted in pain.

“That thing will kill you.” Kame told him, but he wasn’t sure if Taguchi even heard him; it was hard to get his voice very loud with the air strangled out of his lungs. His head felt ready to split in half, struggling to keep his head up. The white light was burning brighter and brighter, and there was a loud crack; the edges of Kame’s vision began to blur, shattering glass the last thing he heard before the world faded to black.

Nakamaru’s ears were still ringing when he opened his eyes. He felt for his limbs and found that for the time being he couldn’t move, searching the floor of the room with his eyes. There was a body resting to his right that he knew was Ueda, and as Nakamaru watched he groaned and rolled, going from his elbows and knees to a more collapsed position on his side. He was breathing hard but he was alive, and after a breath of relief Nakamaru shifted his concerns.

There was a body in the center of the room, black markings etched deep into his skin. Broken glass was strewn around him, and there were no signs of life; it was Taguchi, and he was dead. Nakamaru looked over their comrade, wondering how long he was that he’d been possessed, from what battle it was that he’d began his plan to betray them. The orb seemed to be broken, and Nakamaru hoped that was a good sign; he himself didn’t feel possessed, and he wasn’t dead, but there was one way he could know for sure. He glanced around again.

Kame was in front of him, collapsed in a heap. There were no signs of movement, and it took every inch of willpower Nakamaru had to pull himself up and crawl across the floor. He struggled into a sitting position, lifting Kame’s head into his lap. After a long, awful moment, Nakamaru noticed breath coming from between Kame’s lips. He was alive. As he watched, the evil black wound around Kame’s right eye faded and disappeared.

“Kame?” Nakamaru shook his shoulders slightly, and the commander opened his eyes. He looked exhausted in every sense of the word but he was alive, and Nakamaru felt tears welling in his eyes.

“It’s over. We did it.” A choking laugh left his lips, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “We won."


End file.
